By J. M. Allison
Just a spoiled rich girl! Not a serious archeologist! Was that all they thought of me? If they prohibited my inclusion on this expedition, then I would find it first! They couldn’t ignore my experience and commitment if I stood before them holding the relic!
The university library contained what I needed. I yanked open the door and stalked directly to the section on ancient Ireland. I scanned the few book titles remaining. Ancient Ireland and the Magic Within. Classic Irish Legends. Ireland: Its Food, People, and Sights. Half the books were missing!
I growled. Where was I going to find the information I needed now? I turned toward the exit and froze. A mountain range of books covered the corner research table. A mountain range made up of the books I required.
He sat, just like in class, engrossed in his studies. His glasses perched on the tip of his nose, which was just inches from a leatherbound tome. His whole body followed his finger across the page.
I walked over and stood next to him.
He kept reading, one unruly curl falling forward.
“Ehem.”
He adjusted his glasses with his free hand and kept reading.
I leaned in to read over his shoulder.
“Patrick returned to Ireland with the purpose of spreading the message of Christianity to the populous. Upon his arrival in Downpatrick, he set his staff to the earth and gave a prayer of thanksgiving and blessing over the island. God answered his prayer and sprouted a tree on the place his staff touched the land and turned the surrounding fields green with clover.”
“I see you’re researching Saint Patrick,” I whispered. “Mind if I read with you?”
He jumped, arms flailing and sending his stacks of books toppling to the floor. He stared up at me, glasses askew. He was cute in a lost puppy kind of way.
I smoothed my blouse and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “I noticed you checked out most of the section on ancient Ireland.” I gestured to the mess of books. “Do you mind sharing your resources?”
He continued to gape, his mouth moving silently open and closed like a codfish.
“Are you doing general or specific research on Saint Patrick?” I pulled up an empty chair and seated myself next to him.
“Um… well… I…”
I often marveled at how many scholarly men lost all speech capacity when confronted with the unexpected.
“I’m Louisa McInernery.” I extended my hand, and he shook it still wearing a dazed expression.
“Andy. Andrew Saint Jones.” He turned back to his books, sending a pile of loose papers sailing to the floor. He scrambled after them.
“I’m researching Saint Patrick’s staff,” I offered as he continued to gather the flyaway notes and toppled books. “Our classmates in the archeology department are planning an expedition to find the staff, and they’ve refused to allow my participation.” My gaze wandered over the titles still on the table. “So I plan to find the relic first and prove I am just as serious a historian and archeologist as they—”
There, half hidden under the tome, I noticed a journal. I pulled it closer.
A dozen lines of script contained a careful list of locations and references to either abnormal foliage growth or Saint Patrick’s staff. A list of letters and numbers followed each entry. I turned the page and read a vague quotation referencing the staff and another referencing Saint Patrick’s mysterious powers. Another list of dates and locations, more coded letters and numbers. I turned another page.
A hand-scribbled picture with several squiggly lines through it. He’d drawn what I guessed might generously be called trees and scattered several x’s over the sheet. A dot labeled Armagh sat in the bottom corner of the page.
“That’s not a library book.” Andy snatched the journal from my hands.
“You’re looking for the staff,” I pressed. “That’s a map!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shoved several large volumes into his satchel.
“Please!”
He froze.
“You’ve obviously done a lot of research. I have equipment and practical field experience in looking for relics.” Or I would have once I found the staff. “Let’s work together.”
Andy eyed me. “I’m not interested in a partner.”
I stood and reached into my own bag. Giving a quick glance around to ensure our privacy, I withdrew my secret prize and offered it to Andy.
“I’m not the greatest at the whole research thing,” I confessed. “But I love visiting old antique shops and last month I came across this.”
Andy tentatively took the box and opened it. His frown vanished and his mouth hung agape as he removed its contents.
“It’s a letter from a monk stationed near Dungannon to a priest at Saint Patrick’s church in Armagh.”
“Linen paper, use of old English words,” Andy muttered as he pored over the letter. “I’d guess it dates back to the early 1500s.”
“1492 according to my lab.”
Andy beamed then did a double take. “You have a lab?”
“Technically, it’s Daddy’s, but I’m allowed use of it whenever the need arises.”
“Ah. This confirms they moved the staff for safekeeping.”
I nodded. “Somewhere in the hills between Dungannon and Armagh.”
“It alludes that the staff was hidden where ‘Patrick’s clover shall guard his power.’” Andy’s face scrunched in thought. He dug out his journal and flipped through it. “Here!” He shoved the journal toward me and grinned. “Patrick preached so long that an entire patch of clover grew. It’s considered one of his most important, and long-winded, sermons. And it all happened on a hill seven kilometers northeast of Armagh!”
“So, what do you say, Mr. Saint Jones?” I extended my hand again.
Andy straightened and adjusted his glasses. “Lead on, partner!” He grabbed my hand and gave it a firm shake.
I beamed. Time to show those university boys how the serious archaeologists recover a relic!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
So fun! It must be nice for a “serious archeologist” to have a Dad with a lab. 😊
Thank you! I am glad you enjoyed it. 😊
Love the reference to Saint Patrick here! It would be great to see more of these two!
I love writing with them! You can find more of their adventures in The Apple of Aphrodite and The Leprechaun’s Stein.
Delightful story! I loved the ending.
Thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed it!
Wow, that’s a fun origin story for these two! I’m loving the archaeological relic hunts, it’s a lot of fun to see where ancient letters and hand-written maps take them!